


the mercy covering me

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [62]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Wanda Maximoff, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Loki Angst, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, POV Steve Rogers, Past Brainwashing, Recovery, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Angst, everyone in this fic's got issues, lots of feelings, some are dealing with them better than others, things are mostly okay though actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: It's not their first time on this (miserable) ride. What Amora did leaves scars that are slow to fade - and renews some wounds that never really healed.(Directly followsone hand on my throat, and one on your heart.)





	the mercy covering me

They’d been through this before.

HYDRA, Doom, Asgard, Sin. And every time, they came back. They healed. Maybe with some new scars, but they healed. It’d be the same this time.

So Steve kept telling himself.

_“Hello, lover,” Amora said, her hand on the back of Steve’s neck. “Did you miss me?” She drew in close and breathed on his lips, drawing away before they touched. “I’m going to have such fun with you.”_

Steve jerked awake, panting, and for a dizzy half second he thought he felt light fingers trailing down his spine, but then the feeling passed and he was just sitting alone in bed. The sheets on Loki’s side were rumpled, at least, but he wasn’t there.

Steve rubbed his eyes and got up, walking out of the bedroom. The light in the kitchen was on, and Loki was standing by the counter staring at an empty mug.

“Loki?” Steve said carefully. He turned his head.

“You’re awake,” he said, sounding distressed. “Did I…”

“No,” Steve said, hunting down a smile. “It’s fine. I just...woke up. What’re you doing?”

Loki looked at the empty mug again. “I was going to make tea,” he said, “but I couldn’t make my mind up on what kind.” He laughed, though it sounded brittle. “What a silly thing to hold me back.”

“Mint?” Steve suggested. “Jasmine?”

Loki shook his head and put the mug away. “I don’t think I want tea after all.” He turned toward Steve, and he looked...lost. Scared, and Steve wasn’t sure how to ease that fear.

“Do you want to come back to bed?” He asked. Loki looked over toward the living room.

“Not now,” he said quietly. “I think I will...stay up for a bit.”

“Then I’ll stay too,” Steve said.

“You needn’t,” Loki said. Steve narrowed his eyes.

“I know I don’t. Are you saying you don’t want me to?” Selfishly, he thought, _don’t send me back, I don’t want to be on my own._

“No,” Loki said after a beat. “I am not...saying that.”

“Good,” Steve said, “cause I probably wouldn’t listen.”

Loki’s lips twitched - barely - toward a smile. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Hey,” Steve said, a weak and slightly forced protest. He walked over to Loki and reached out for his hands, pulling him in for a soft, almost tentative kiss.

_You seem to find this one...satisfactory. I could enjoy finding out why._

Steve jerked back with a gasp, sure for a moment that he’d heard Amora’s voice just over his shoulder.

“Steve?” Loki said, a note thrumming through his voice of worry - and, yes, hurt. Steve shook his head quickly.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I thought I heard something, that’s all.” He found a smile. “Everything’s fine.”

Loki scanned his face, not looking wholly convinced. Steve kissed him again, almost defiant. Loki felt rigid, wound like a spring. If Steve could get him to loosen even a little, he would count it as a win.

When Steve pulled back, Loki dropped his head on Steve’s shoulder with a quiet sigh. Steve closed his eyes and put his arms around Loki’s shoulders.

They’d made it through this process before.

They’d do it again this time.

* * *

Whatever else changed, as far as Steve was concerned there was nothing like working himself to exhaustion to deal with nightmares and sleepless nights - and T’Challa had gear that could actually stand up to him.

He’d just finished a routine when he hear quiet steps behind him and spun around, suddenly on high alert, only to force himself to relax a moment later.

“Hey,” Clint said, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. “D’you mind company?”

Steve wasn’t sure if he did or didn’t, but he shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He could feel Clint eyeing him and tensed. “It’s fine,” he said again, more firmly.

Clint shrugged. “Wasn’t really questioning that. Just...wondering how you’re doing.”

_I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in three days and Loki won’t talk to me about what happened. I can’t tell if it’s that he doesn’t trust me or is trying to protect me._

_Amora’s dead and I still can’t stop thinking about how it felt when she made me want her, and sure you’d understand what that was like but it’s a little awkward to talk about, considering it was Loki who did it to you._

“Good,” he said politely. Clint smiled wryly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I kind of figured you’d say that.” He sat down, unlacing his shoes. “Don’t mind me. It’s yoga time.” Steve must have blinked, because Clint added without a trace of shame, “Laura turned me on to it. Great way to stay flexible.”

“I guess it would be,” Steve said. Clint glanced at him sidelong, then went back to his shoes, kicking one off and then the other before standing, rising up on the balls of his feet and dropping back down.

“How long was it?” He asked, not looking at Steve.

“What?”

“Amora,” Clint said. “How long did she have her fingers in your brain?”

Steve swallowed hard, his throat tightening briefly. “Not that long,” he said.

“Felt like longer, though. Right?” Clint started rolling out his neck. “Like everything sort of...stretches. And at the same time you blink and it’s like no time has passed at all.” Steve’s stomach was churning uneasily. _Every time I look at him or think about him it’s like he’s in my head all over again and all I want to do is what’ll make him happy,_ Clint had said, way back, and when Steve thought of Amora now he didn’t want that, at all, but when she’d had him-

_You’d do anything for me, sweet boy._

Steve walked over to one of the benches and sat down, feeling shaky. “I’m sorry,” he said faintly.

“I don’t need you to apologize, Steve,” Clint said. “Just saying. I know what it’s like. And yeah, plenty of people in this crowd have been through the brainwashing thing, but having someone make you think that you love them - that’s something else.”

Steve looked down at his hands. “Loki did that to you,” he said.

“Yeah,” Clint said after a second. “He did. But - hell. I’m not talking about me, or Loki. I’m just saying to you. Amora fucked with you. You don’t have to be _good_ about it.” He shrugged, stretching out one leg and bending the other in a sort of lunge.

Steve fidgeted with his hands, wishing he could crack his knuckles. “I would’ve done anything,” he blurted out. “She was...she was going to kill me to get Loki to do what she wanted and even though I could - _feel_ it, it didn’t matter because if she needed me dead, that must be the right thing.”

Almost immediately after the words were out he felt sick. He shouldn’t have said anything. Especially not that.

“You still feel like that?” Clint asked after a moment’s silence.

Steve shook his head, hard. “No,” he said. “God, no.”

“Then you’re clear,” Clint said. “She didn’t win. You did. She’s got nothing left she can do to you.”

“That simple,” Steve said under his breath.

“Not usually. But it’s something to try to remember.”

Steve looked up. “What about you,” he said, though he didn’t really want to. “Do you still…”

He couldn’t finish the question. Clint paused in his routine and stood up, turning around. “You really want to know?” Steve made himself nod. Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked away. “Yeah, I do. Sometimes. Not as strong as I used to, but something’s still there.” He paused. “I’m not actually sure if Loki knows.” He laughed weakly. “At this point...I don’t know. I’m almost used to it. And when I feel it I can say no. That’s sort of reassuring, in a way.”

Steve wanted to flinch. “Clint,” he said, but didn’t know how to end the sentence. Clint shrugged.

“It’s okay, Steve. Everything with Loki...I’m dealing. Maybe not _well,_ but I’m dealing. And even if I wasn’t - that’s on him, not you. And like I said, that’s not the point.”

“I am,” Steve said, with more than a little irony.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Turns out. Now go take a nap. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Steve said flatly.

“You’re welcome,” Clint said with put on cheer. Steve sighed and left Clint to it. He went looking for Loki.

* * *

He didn’t find him in their suite, or his usual spot in the gardens. _Where are you?_ He wrote, keeping a tight rein on his burgeoning panic.

 _East garden near the fountain,_ Loki wrote, and Steve’s stomach knotted. Where it’d happened. ‘

It’d only taken a second. A blink of an eye and a single touch and he was Amora’s, wrapped completely around her little finger. He remembered her smiling when she told him to summon Loki.

 _Why?_ He’d asked. _What do we need him for?_

 _We’re just going to have a bit of fun with him,_ she’d said, running her fingers along his jawline.

Steve took a deep, shaky breath and centered himself. It was just a place. Just a fountain. And whatever Loki was doing there...well. Steve wouldn’t guess it was anything good. _Keep it together,_ he told himself. _He needs your help._

He made his way there and found Loki sitting on a bench. Steve stopped dead, and for a moment he had a terrifying sense of the world doubling, like he was seeing two things at once. He forced himself forward, glad that Loki hadn’t been looking at him. He turned his head slowly as Steve got closer.

“Steve,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Steve said, trying to smile. “Back here, huh?”

Loki looked down. “I wondered how much you…remembered.”

Steve hesitated. “It’s blurry,” he said, which wasn’t quite true. It felt like it had happened to someone else, and at the same time it felt all too much like it had happened to him. His stomach twisted in knots and he made himself move forward and sit down. “Why did you come out here?”

“I was…” Loki trailed off, then laughed softly. “I don’t know.”

“We could go somewhere else.”

Loki turned sharply toward him. “I am not so fragile as to be frightened of this place.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Steve said carefully. Loki blinked at him, and almost immediately looked down, shamefaced.

“I am…sorry,” he said, sounding so awkward and uncertain it might have been endearing, if it didn’t make Steve’s heart ache. “I should not…it is a lie, besides. I am so fragile. I have been sitting here trying to prove otherwise.”

Steve looked at Loki in surprise and stayed quiet, wondering if he would say more. After a moment he sighed and went on. “I meant it,” he said. “All that I said. To you.”

“All that you,” Steve started to say, and then realized what he meant and wanted to wince. “I know.” He still wasn’t sure what to think of it. _If this is what love means, I count it worth the price,_ he’d said, and on the one hand Steve was relieved, because that was a change and he knew it, from the time Loki would have run from anything he perceived as a vulnerability. On the other hand…

It still hurt. Knowing that Loki had suffered because of him. Knowing how quickly Loki would give himself up if it meant saving Steve, and think it was worth it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing Loki wouldn’t understand why he was apologizing. He needed to say it anyway. Loki frowned at him, but before he could ask Steve cleared his throat and said, “can I ask…how you’re feeling?”

Loki’s expression flickered. He looked away from Steve, toward the fountain. Steve remembered Amora trailing her fingers through the water, watching her and longing to draw closer.

 _Tell me, Captain,_ she’d said. _Why_ is _Loki so fond of you? You’re handsome, but Loki always tired quickly of the handsome ones._

Steve tried to control his ragged inhale, to make it smooth.

“We were friends, once,” Loki said. “Amora and I. But never good ones. There was a time I mistook her cruelty for cleverness. She has both, to be sure. But more of the former.” His eyes shadowed. “I have been thinking about the fact that I could have – _should_ have – killed her long before now.” He laughed, harsh and mirthless. “It was always more satisfying to beat her.”

Steve didn’t know where to start, so he started with the obvious. “You were friends?”

“After a fashion, yes. Students of magic together, for a time. Competitors, driving each other onward. Pushing each other to take risks. She would hurt me. I hurt her back. We broke when she tried to use her…particular talents to seduce Thor.” Loki’s eyes stared into the distance somewhere. “She never forgave me for intervening. And I never forgave her for trying to rape my brother.”

Steve heard himself make a small noise in the back of his throat and just managed not to flinch. “Is that why she was exiled?”

Loki twitched his head to the side. “No. No one other than Thor, Sif, and I ever knew about that particular…incident. Even had Thor’s pride not been at stake, I would have been…implicated in concealing her studies, at the very least. No, she fled Asgard later, before she was brought to trial as party to a plot to assassinate Freya of Vanaheim. She might have escaped conviction, but for the fact of her flight condemning her.”

There was so much, Steve realized all over again, that he didn’t know. So many questions he wanted to ask about Loki’s history. But thinking about Amora made him feel vaguely ill.

“You couldn’t have known she’d do this,” he said.

“I might have guessed.” Loki glanced at Steve. “Amora has always been a…eminently practical woman. She is perfectly willing to set aside her ambitions for the sake of survival. And she has no scruples whatsoever about who she works with. The Titan does not have much use for allies, but that does not mean allies will not try to go to him. Others may…have the same idea. Of bearing a gift.” The twist in the last word made Steve twitch.

“That’s what she was doing,” he said.

“Yes.” For a moment Steve thought Loki would leave it there, but he went on, voice dull. “She thought to…bring me back to him. But she imagined he would be less grateful for a defiant escapee than a…broken wretch. So she sought to make me. By means of memories meant to bring back…old wounds.”

 _Old wounds._ Like what Steve had seen, what must have been Loki’s first encounter with the Chitauri, with Thanos.

“I have so many,” Loki murmured. “I wonder how she chose. Or if it was my own mind that chose, dredging up the worst from the black mud buried in my head.”

Steve shifted closer to Loki, reaching out slowly and laying a hand on his shoulder, almost fearful he’d be pushed away. Loki leaned into him instead, just slightly and perhaps not wholly consciously, but it still soothed something in Steve to feel him do it.

“Do you want to…talk about any of it?” He asked carefully. Loki glanced at him, seeming startled by the question.

“Talk about what?”

“What you saw,” Steve said. “What she…did to you.”

“No,” he said, almost immediately. “No, I don’t…” He stuttered a laugh. “Your dreams are bad enough, I think, without giving you mine.”

Steve scowled. “You should know better than to give me that by now,” he said. Loki’s eyes half closed.

“I saw you,” he said quietly. “When I woke. You looked…wounded. Amora left marks on you.”

“Nothing I can’t recover from,” Steve said staunchly. Loki raised his eyebrows.

“And if I said the same? Do you not believe me?” There was something there, brittle and dangerous, and Steve eyed it uneasily.

“It’s not about not believing you,” Steve said. “Just knowing that…you were hurt. Are hurting. And wanting to help.”

Loki closed his eyes. “I know,” he said, and stopped.

“But?” Steve prompted tentatively. Loki shook his head.

“But nothing. I know, and I am grateful.” He smiled, very faintly. “I am not…trying to be difficult. I genuinely do not know what I would say. Or what I would ask of you.”

“You don’t have to ask anything,” Steve said. Loki leaned toward him and kissed him, light and brief. He studied Steve’s face, and something shifted slightly in his expression.

“We shouldn’t stay here,” he said. “It is still too close.” Steve wondered if he’d picked up on his unease, and was almost ashamed.

He stood, after a moment, and took Loki’s hand, following him out of the garden, wishing he felt more like he’d found the right thing to say.

* * *

_“Look, Steve,” Amora whispered in his ear._ “ _Look at what you’ve done.”_

_He blinked, and a scream boiled up in his throat, staring at Loki’s battered face, blood dripping from his mouth and sightless eyes staring at nothing._

Steve wrenched out of sleep and rolled to his side, panting, but Loki was there, whole, breathing. Finally exhausted enough to sleep, apparently. He reached out to touch him, to press his nose into his shoulder, and pulled back.

Getting slowly out of bed, he left a note on the bedside table and slipped out.

It was close to dawnand everything seemed quiet, but as he walked toward the training rooms he saw someone sitting out on one of the balconies. He stopped and walked back.

“You’re up early,” he said. Wanda turned around, looking a little guilty.

“Sometimes I like to watch the sun rise,” she said.

“I’m surprised Pietro isn’t with you.”

“He knows that I need to be alone sometimes.” Her lips twitched. “Though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to argue.” The smile, if smile it was, was gone quickly. “What about you, Steve?”

“I’m an early riser,” Steve said. “Always have been.” Wanda just looked at him, and Steve sighed. “All right, maybe that’s not all. But you’re not just here to watch the sun rise, are you?”

Wanda turned back around and looked down. “Maybe not.”

Steve walked out onto the balcony and sat down next to her. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m all right,” Wanda said quickly. “I’m not - I mean. It’s nothing _you_ need to worry about. I think you have enough of that.” She gave him a crooked smile. “That’s why you’re out here, isn’t it?”

 _I’m okay,_ Steve thought to say, but that probably wouldn’t help his point. He sighed. “It just...takes time to settle back in after...something like this.”

“How’s Loki?” Wanda asked.

“He’s...he’s healing.” _I think._ “It stirred up a lot of things. But Loki’s...you know Loki. He’s strong.” He shifted. “You haven’t talked?”

Wanda shook her head. “Not really. Do you think that he’s...upset with me? For what I did to him?”

Steve shook his head quickly. “I don’t think so. I think - you said he taught that trick to you. If anything I think he’d be glad you used it.” It worried him, though, that Loki hadn’t reached out to Wanda. Had he reached out to anyone?

Wanda nodded, but she didn’t look completely convinced. Steve gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe you should...try talking to Loki. He’s not always very good at going to other people when he’s not at his best.”

“That’s a generous understatement,” Wanda said, but she said it with a bit of a smile. Steve shook his head a little, not really in disagreement. Wanda’s faint smile faded, though, looking down at her hands.

“Are you…” Steve hesitated. “Are you still feeling guilty about…Amora?”

Wanda’s lips tightened. “About killing her? Not really.” She gave Steve a sidelong look. “Is that bad?”

“I think you did what you had to,” Steve said. He didn’t say, though he thought it, _I’m glad she’s dead._

“Are you all right?” Wanda asked abruptly. Steve tried not to tense. “I don’t just mean because of Loki. Because of…what happened to _you._ What she did.”

“Amora,” Steve clarified, his stomach doing a little flip. Wanda dipped her chin in a nod. “I’m okay,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. “I mean, obviously it wasn’t…but I’m okay.” Wanda nodded, but she didn’t look relieved. Steve hesitated before asking, “something’s bothering you.”

“Is it any different?” She asked, not looking at him. “What she did, and what I did. Is there any difference?”

Steve started back. He remembered, without really wanting to, the dream-nightmare, dancing with Peggy, the war still with him and looking down to realize he’d stepped over Loki’s dead body. He’d managed to push it back, not think about it, but…

“No,” he said vehemently. “There is a difference. Not just…you weren’t trying to take control of anyone, and you – you _stopped,_ Wanda. You decided to change. That makes all the difference.”

Wanda gave him an uncertain, dubious look. “Does it?”

“It does to me.”

She looked down, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry. It’s selfish of me, to be asking you – when _you’re_ the one who suffered.”

“I’m okay,” Steve said again. “Really.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “And Wanda…I don’t remember if I’ve said it yet, but – thank you. For everything you did, finding Loki and helping get him back. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Wanda turned a little pink. “I had to do something,” she mumbled.

“I’m glad,” Steve said. “That you and Loki are friends. I know he really does care about you.”

Wanda’s lips flickered in a weak smile. “I do know that. He’s not as good at pretending not to care as he thinks.”

“No,” Steve agreed. “He’s not.”

“Thank you,” Wanda said quietly after a long pause. Steve gave her a surprised look.

“For what?” He asked, but she just shook her head and turned to hug him.

* * *

Loki didn’t wake Steve with screaming. He might not have woken at all if it weren’t for his own unsettled dreams: standing stock still, unable to move as Amora ripped out his friend’s hearts one by one.

Sam collapsed limply to the ground and he jerked awake, only to realize that Loki was breathing in shallow, strained gasps, curled into a ball and shaking.

“Loki?” Steve said, at first thinking he was awake, but he didn’t respond. Steve reached out to touch his shoulder. “Loki?” He said a bit more loudly.

He woke up snarling and lashed out. Steve jerked back but Loki checked himself, too, a mixture of fear and shame flashing visibly across his face as his arm fell.

It’d been a long time since Loki’d reacted like that, Steve thought unhappily. “I’m sorry,” he said aloud. “I shouldn’t have…”

“I should be the one apologizing,” Loki interrupted. “I could have broken your nose. Or your jaw.” He twisted away, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Most often dreamless sleep sounds too close to oblivion,” Loki said. “That’s a temptation I try to avoid courting. But sometimes…”

Steve’s heart squeezed. “Is there anything I can do?”

Loki sighed, his head dropping forward. “You cannot fight the demons in my mind, Steve. Valiantly as you may try.”

 _I wish I could._ He stayed quiet, waiting. He got the feeling there was something Loki wanted to say, and was holding off voicing.

“I had almost forgotten before Amora brought it back,” Loki said finally. “After I…learned what I was. After I was certain. I stood in my rooms thinking about how I would be murdered if it were known. Thor was gone. Odin was gone. I sat on the throne and thought about the color of Jotun blood.”

Steve’s throat closed. Knowing how that had ended…he thought he knew what Loki was – wasn’t – saying.

“Looking back,” Loki said, his voice very quiet, “I don’t know what stopped me.”

“Is that…what you were dreaming about?”

“No,” Loki said after a moment. Steve stayed quiet, and Loki half turned toward him. “Is this silence your way of asking without asking?”

“You only have to say what you want to say.”

Loki’s lips twisted and he turned away again. “It was training,” he said finally. “To resist interrogation. Or that was what I was told. That if I could stay silent for a duration of their choosing, I would be granted rest.” His voice was dull. “They used a poison that eats through the lining of the stomach. You can imagine the result.”

Steve swallowed hard, twice. He’d seen men with gut wounds, the damage done by their own bodies. He thought of Loki curled up and fighting not to make a sound. _To resist interrogation._

Steve supposed it you were more afraid of the people who’d sent you than the people you were fighting, maybe that would work. He felt a flare of anger that overwhelmed the sickness. _It isn’t fair,_ he wanted to say. _It isn’t_ right. _You didn’t deserve,_ but who did? It’d never mattered what anyone deserved. His voice seemed to have strangled, dying in his throat.

“At the end,” Loki said, and broke off, inhaling. “At the end – I could feel myself splintering. I knew what was happening and I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold fast. I tried, I tried _so hard-_ “

Steve’s chest ached. “Back…back then?”

“No,” Loki said. “With Amora.” He shuddered slightly. “I was starting to lose track. Of what was real and what was…not.”

Steve felt ill. If they’d been a little bit later…maybe his worst fears would have been realized. He pushed the fear of that _what if_ away, telling himself it hadn’t happened, Loki was fine, he was _fine._

“You didn’t,” Steve said. “You did hold on. As long as you needed to.”

Loki shook his head. “I was lucky. But that is not the point. All she did was…force me to see something that was already true.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“I thought I had progressed,” Loki said. “Grown stronger. _Healed._ ” He laughed bitterly. “All I did was paper over the fracture lines. The more a blade breaks, the harder it is to forge it back to full strength, and it will never be the piece it was before.”

“You aren’t a blade,” Steve said. “And you haven’t - broken. That you’re still here proves that.”

“Does it?” Loki said. “Or does it just prove that I am - too stubborn to give up?” He looked down, closing his eyes. “You dream about it, don’t you? Amora...violating you. I would rip off her hands for doing that to you.” He paused, lips twisting a little. “And yes, I do recognize the hypocrisy.”

Steve wasn’t sure how to address that, so like a coward, he left it alone. “She’s dead now.”

“They all are,” Loki said. “And yet. They live on, resurrected in dreams and memories, again and again. We fight them, again and again, and it is a battle we cannot possibly win.”

Steve’s stomach clenched. “You don’t believe that.”

“I am not sure.” Loki pressed his forehead into his hands. “My mind has always been my greatest enemy. Amora knew that. She would have shattered me, hardly lifting a finger, with shadows and trickery.”

Steve swallowed hard. “It didn’t feel like just shadows and trickery to me.”

Loki blinked, glancing at him in confusion, and Steve realized belatedly that Loki hadn’t been aware of him, hadn’t known that Steve had seen…

He almost wished he hadn’t said it, but he was committed now. “When we found you...when I crossed the threshold to get to you it was like I was standing on another world. It all seemed so...real, like I really had gone somewhere else. For you...you weren’t just remembering what happened. You were reliving it.” Steve twisted his hands together. “Seems to me most of the things you’ve gone through - once would be enough for anyone to go to pieces.”

There was something raw about Loki’s face when he looked up. Steve pressed on.

“But you didn’t,” Steve said. “You held it together. You’re here. With me.”

_Doesn’t that mean something?_

“You saw,” Loki said, his voice strangely small. Steve tried not to wince.

“I saw you trying to fight even when that monster was torturing you,” Steve said, his voice wobbling slightly. _I saw you screaming._

“For all the good it did,” Loki said bitterly. “I still failed. Still broke and in the end I chose to do his bidding to save myself.”

Steve shook his head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. Being tortured into compliance-”

“It isn’t that simple,” Loki said.

“You do what you have to do to survive,” Steve said. “And maybe after you could’ve done things differently, but acting like breaking under torture is some kind of moral failing-”

“You would not have,” Loki said, his voice quiet but still somehow cutting off Steve’s. “Even Stark did not, from what I understand.”

Steve’s stomach clenched. “Don’t,” he managed to say. “Don’t do that.”

Loki’s lips twisted up at one corner in an unhappy smile. “It is true, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never had to face something on that level,” Steve said. “And I didn’t do so well against Amora, did I? Who’s to say I’d fare any better? You don’t know that. I certainly don’t.” He swallowed hard. “You were already...when he started in on you you were already vulnerable. He got in your head, knew exactly how to manipulate you, how to get you to do what you wanted and make you think it was your idea-”

“It was,” Loki snapped. “He wanted the Tesseract. I _bargained_ for Midgard.”

Steve locked his jaw. “And what would’ve happened to the Earth if you hadn’t? For that matter, was he ever _really_ going to let you rule?” Loki was silent. “I’m just saying. You didn’t cave to Doom. Or Njord. And if things had been different - if you hadn’t been isolated and alone and fresh off one of the low points of your life - if _anyone_ had a chance of finding a way out without doing what he wanted, I’d bet you could.”

Loki looked like he wanted to argue, but he said nothing. Steve touched his jaw, his neck. “I wish you would believe me.”

“I wish I could.” Loki looked away. “Amora said she could see it. My fracture lines. The places she could press to...is it so obvious?” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I cannot help but feel I used to be better at this.”

Steve frowned. “Better at what?”

“Hiding it,” Loki said. “Keeping my weaknesses secret. Not letting anyone see…”

Steve felt an unpleasant lurch. “You don’t think that was a problem?” He said. “That you didn’t let anyone ever know what you were feeling?” He made himself laugh. “Honestly I feel like I wish I knew _more_ of what you’re thinking, not less.”

“I know,” Loki said after a moment, quietly. “It is only…” He sighed. “You praise me for surviving, but any fool can survive.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think that’s true. Sometimes it – takes a lot, to survive. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Loki gave him a sidelong look, one eyebrow quirked. “I have known a lot of living fools. It cannot be so hard as that.”

Steve frowned at him. “Some people are lucky, sure. But to go through what you have and come out standing – that _is_ strength. Sometimes…sometimes just getting up every day and going on is all you can do, and that’s enough.”

Loki’s expression smoothed out, impossible to read. “Do you believe that, Steve?”

“I do,” Steve said.

“For yourself?”

Steve’s thoughts hitched. _It’s never been enough for you. Was it enough when you were ninety pounds and dying by inches? Or when you woke up in a new century with everything familiar gone?_ “Not always,” he said finally. “But I think I’d like to.”

Loki’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “A project for us both, then.”

“I guess so.” Steve paused. “But really, Loki…you haven’t just survived. Everything you’ve done – for me, for us…”

Loki scoffed. “Everything _I’ve_ done. You-“

“Don’t start,” Steve interrupted a little sharply. “Whether you believe it or not, I do. And you don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” Loki shook his head, and Steve nodded. “So just accept it.”

Loki sighed, but he didn’t argue further. Steve hesitated.

“You put magic into the rings,” he said. “You didn’t tell me.”

Loki tensed, half turning toward him. “I – no, I suppose I didn’t.”

“It’s how we found you,” Steve said, surprised Loki hadn’t asked. “Wanda traced the connection between them, the, uh…resonance.” Loki blinked, seeming startled.

“She did, did she? Clever girl.”

“Is that not…what it’s for?”

Loki hesitated. “No,” he said finally. “Not exactly.” Steve waited, suddenly and inexplicably nervous. Loki exhaled. “It is…oh, a sentimental thing. A magical expression of…” He seemed, Steve realized, embarrassed, and some of the anxiety abated. “A bond,” he said finally. “Of sorts.”

Steve cocked his head a little to the side. “Is it some sort of tradition?”

“Not in Asgard,” Loki almost muttered. Steve raised his eyebrows and Loki flushed; Steve almost laughed at his harried expression, making him look so much less _vulnerable_ than he had since coming back. “On Vanaheim. Magic is more common there, and the, ah. The bride weaves a casting that connects her with her intended. It has little effect – though some claim it can bolster the strength of both partners. Largely it is a…symbolic gesture. Rings – metal - is powerful in their permanence. Magic is powerful in its life.”

Steve felt a smile creep onto his face. “That’s beautiful.”

Loki’s flush grew a little more pronounced. “Frigga was born in Vanaheim,” he said almost defensively.

“I like it,” Steve said. “I do wish you’d told me, though. If I’d known…maybe I could’ve come sooner.” _Maybe you wouldn’t be hurting so badly now._

“I should have,” Loki said, looking down.

“Why didn’t you?”

Loki hesitated. “I was afraid you would think it was foolish.”

Steve felt a pang. “I don’t. That’s the kind of thing I – want to know. Want to _learn._ If there are traditions you want to keep to…”

“Not many,” Loki said. “So much of Asgard is…” He twitched one shoulder and didn’t finish the sentence. _And what about Jotunheim?_ Steve knew better than to ask that. Not now, and maybe not ever, either.

“Well, this one…I like this one,” Steve said. He reached for Loki’s hand and took it, squeezing gently. His fingers curled around Steve’s and he sighed. Steve wondered if Loki thought he wouldn’t hear the unsteadiness in it.

* * *

The next morning, it was Steve’s turn to wake up to an empty bed and a note. Loki had gone to talk to Wanda and Steve shook himself awake and headed to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water felt good, and his head felt a little clearer, a little more rested.

He went for a long run and checked back in after, but Loki was still out. Steve hesitated, wondering if he should be worried, but he hoped that it was for a good reason.

He wandered over to Sam’s suite, wondering if he’d be up, and knocked on the door. “Yeah?” Sam called from inside.

“It’s me,” Steve said, and a moment later the door opened, Sam giving him a bleary looking smile.

“Come in,” he said. “Want some coffee? I’m on my third cup this morning.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Third? Really?”

“Late night,” Sam said. “Early morning? Whatever.” He gestured toward the couch, where one hand raised over the back of the couch and waved.

“Morning, Steve,” Bucky said. Steve blinked and glanced at Sam, who shrugged.

“He decided I needed babysitting. Like I’m not an adult who can hold my liquor. Just because I’m not a super soldier with enhanced metabolism.”

Steve looked back and forth between them. “Do I want to ask?”

“It was just a bottle of whiskey and a few rounds of Uno,” Bucky said. “It’s not my fault Wilson can’t play cards.”

“Fuck you too,” Sam said, heading over to the kitchen with its shiny espresso machine. “So, coffee? For the person in this room who isn’t an asshole?”

“Sure,” Steve said, wandering over to the couch and looking over the back at Bucky. “How’re _you_ doing?”

“Great,” Bucky said. “I’m a super soldier with enhanced metabolism.” His eyes sharpened. “How about you?”

“Good,” Steve said with a shrug. Bucky narrowed his eyes, and Steve amended, “better. It’s been…it’s better.”

“Yeah?” Bucky didn’t sound convinced.

“Really,” Steve said, a little annoyed. “I wish people would believe me.”

Bucky shrugged. “You do have a history of faking fine.” Steve scowled.

“It’s true,” Sam said, dropping into a nearby chair and holding out a cup of coffee to Steve. “You do do that.”

“I just don’t want to cause a fuss,” Steve protested.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Sam said. “’My name is Steve Rogers, I got mind-controlled and my boyfriend was kidnapped by a crazy enchantress, but I wouldn’t want to make a _fuss_ about it.’”

Steve could feel his face heating up. “Both of you…”

Bucky sat up and swung his feet down to the floor. “You wanna be let off the hook, you’d better start talking.” Steve looked to Sam, who just looked back at him with an expression of exaggerated patience.

Steve took his coffee over to a chair and sat down. “I don’t have a whole lot to say. It’s not like this is the first time things have been…rough. Honestly some things are better.” He smiled crookedly. “At least Loki’s not pulling into himself like he used to. And I’m…dealing.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side. “Loki said you’re not sleeping.”

Steve felt his expression tighten. “I’m surrounded by gossips,” he said.

“Is it true?”

Steve made himself shrug. “Not great, I guess. But that happens. And _he’s_ not really either.”

“Well, yeah, I figured that.”

Steve shook his head. “It’ll go back to normal. Or as normal as it gets. It always does.”

“’Always,’” Sam said. “That is an immensely depressing phrase to hear in this context.” He sighed. “Who did you piss off in a former life, Steve?”

“Former life? He’s pissed off plenty of people in this one,” Bucky said. Steve leaned his head back.

“Well, I’m glad you two are having fun,” he said dryly, and winced at the faint bitterness that came out. Both Bucky and Sam looked at him and Steve looked down. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sam said. “It’s almost a relief to hear a little snark out of you.”

“It wasn’t fair.” Steve rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m just tired. And I don’t know…” _What I’m doing. What I should do._ “All of this has…brought back a lot of stuff that I thought – and I think Loki thought – was left behind.” _And I feel less and less sure I can protect him at all. From what’s coming –_ or _what’s already happened._

“Fun,” Bucky said, after a brief silence. Steve’s heart clenched and his fingers tightened around the coffee cup.

“We’ve made – he’s made so much progress,” Steve said. “And I just don’t – what if this erases all of that? Loki seems to think it will, that he’s been sucked back down the hole he’s spent the last few years climbing out of.” The words came spilling out of him in a rush; once he started he couldn’t stop. “And what am _I_ supposed to do? I’ve said I’ll protect him and not only do I keep failing at that, but this time I was an actual liability-“

“Whoa there,” Sam said. “Hang on. Failing how?”

“With Doom,” Steve said. “Twice.”

“Twice?” Sam said.

“The first time, I knew he was taking risks and I knew it was dangerous when he passed us information, but I didn’t say anything. And the second time-”

“Story I heard said you waltzed into Latveria like a big damn hero and got him out,” Bucky said. “Guess I missed the part where you let Doom in the front door and gave him directions.”

“And that first time,” Sam said, “if you _had_ said something, what’re the odds Loki would’ve listened?”

Zero. Less than zero. He’d tried, even to mention it, and Loki had brushed his worries off as inconsequential.

Steve’s guilt didn’t ease.

“Asgard,” he said.

“You got him acquitted,” Bucky pointed out.

“The Accords, then,” Steve said. “I let him get taken to the RAFT-“

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t give you another option,” Sam said.

Steve wavered, but he could still feel it, the certainty, the _conviction_ that knew he’d failed at every turn to keep Loki from being hurt, at keeping him safe, and no amount of absolution from his friends could change that. He knew what Loki would say, but Loki still regarded his safety of less importance than Steve would like.

“Is it possible,” Sam said more quietly, “that you’re so attached to this idea of _failing people_ because you’d rather feel like there’s something you could’ve done and didn’t then feel like you were helpless?”

Steve opened his mouth to deny that and closed it again. He remembered, suddenly, talking to Loki: _It’s good that you claim responsibility. But there’s that, and then there’s what you do. Holding onto your guilt. Letting it define you._ Was he just doing the same thing?

“I guess,” he managed. “Maybe.”

“Something to think about.” Sam took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. “God, this is terrible. And I have only myself to blame. About the other thing…yeah, I’ve heard people say that before. People in therapy who hit a snag, or addicts who have a relapse, and they’ll talk like they’re starting over from ground zero. It’s not true. There’s still all the work they did before, all the resources and the support systems. It’s not about assuming you’ll never fall down again. Just that it’ll be easier to get back up.”

“Wow,” Bucky said, “that was beautiful.”

Sam gave Bucky an annoyed look. “You see a counselor for five years and you learn some things, so sue me.”

Steve sipped his coffee, which was indeed terrible. “Thanks,” he said quietly, finally. “That…does make sense.”

“Not just for Loki, either.” Sam set his coffee down. “You should probably talk about some of this. The stuff you’re worrying about, I mean.”

“I don’t want to give Loki something else to worry about.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said. “Cause he’s not likely to notice something and worry about it all on his own.” Steve grimaced, but he had to allow the truth of that. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“You know there’s no rule that only one of you gets to be upset at a time, right?” He said.

“Ha, ha,” Steve said. He stood up, stretching. “I should go. Leave you to your recovery.”

“Take the asshole with you,” Sam said, gesturing at Bucky, who stood up.

“Sore loser,” he said, and strolled out the door. Steve hesitated, looking at Sam.

“Seriously,” he said. “Thank you. For listening.” He couldn’t tell if he felt better, exactly, but he definitely had some new things to think about.

“You’re welcome,” Sam said. “Figure out how to cheat at Uno and we’ll call it even.”

Steve shook his head a little and left. Bucky was leaning against the wall in the hallway waiting for him. “Hey,” he said with a lopsided smile. “Figured I’d walk with you.”

“Sure,” Steve said. “Any particular reason?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “Guess I wondered if you had anything to say about your new membership in the brainwashing club.”

Steve’s steps hitched a little. “I get to be a member now?” He said after a moment, trying to keep his voice light. By the way Bucky glanced at him, he wasn’t convinced. 

“I’d say so.” His eyebrows twitched. “We meet on Tuesdays. Me, Barton, Loki, and now you. Romanoff’s invited whenever she shows up again, I guess.”

Steve winced. “That sounds like it would be awful.” 

“It does, doesn’t it.” Bucky rolled his left shoulder back. “Sorry. Shitty club to be in.”

“I didn’t - my experience wasn’t as bad as any of yours.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t bad.” Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets. “Seriously. If there’s anything you wanted to say...I know I’m not, you know. Good at this stuff. But I can listen.”

“Thank you, Buck,” Steve said. “You’ve been...well. You’re still watching my back. I’m grateful.”

“You should be.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Though somehow you managed to find the one guy who gets into even more trouble than you do. How’d you manage that?” 

“Just lucky, I guess.” 

Bucky bumped Steve with his shoulder. “If you were lucky you’d stay out of trouble for the next few months so you can plan your fucking _wedding._ You’re having one of those, right? I think we deserve a party.”

“Do you want to plan it?” Steve asked. Bucky looked thoughtful and Steve quickly said, “I’m joking.” 

“You are,” Bucky said. He clapped Steve on the back. “Say hi to Loki for me. I’m going to go find out if Sam knows where T’Challa keeps the fancy booze.”

“Bucky, no,” Steve said. He grinned over his shoulder, looking for a moment so much like his old self before the war that Steve’s heart ached a little, but mostly it was just good.

* * *

The idea popped into Steve’s head in the middle of the night, wide awake with one arm draped over Loki’s waist and listening to him breathe - fortunately, for the moment, slow and even. He had to consult T’Challa on it, but by the faint smile on his lips he seemed to approve. 

The package arrived maybe a week later. Steve had managed to sleep through the night twice. He and Loki stayed up and watched movies, Loki’s head heavy on Steve’s shoulder, his fingers gently combing through Steve’s hair. _We can do this,_ Steve told himself, and if sometimes it was more convincing than others, maybe that was just the way it was. 

“I have something for you,” Steve said, setting the box down on the counter. Loki looked up from his book - this one by a Wakandan author in Xhosa, which he was apparently trying to learn - and raised his eyebrows. 

“Is there an occasion?” 

“Not really,” Steve said. “Except...I guess you could say this place was looking a little sparse.” 

Loki narrowed his eyes a hair but stood and walked over to examine the box like he was looking for clues. Steve waited, not quite holding his breath, but after a moment Loki just flicked his wrist, a knife appearing in his hand that he used to cut the tape. 

He fished through the packing materials and pulled out the object inside, carefully encased in bubble wrap. He peeled it away slowly, the slightly suspicious expression more curious now. Steve tried not to fidget. It was the single most expensive thing he’d ever bought, and suddenly he was doubting himself.

Seeing it unwrapped, though, the doubts evaporated.

Loki looked at the bowl, glossy black with its ripples and uneven lines of gold. “It’s...lovely,” he said slowly.

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s...part of a style of art,” he said. “I forget when I ran into it. But I…” He paused. “It’s called ‘kintsugi.’ When a bowl, or plate, or vase breaks, instead of throwing it out, or putting it together and trying to disguise the cracks, instead they…” He gestured. “Make them part of the art by filling the seams with gold. It’s...one piece again. Not ruined, but not unchanged either. The new marks are just...part of the whole.”

Loki was quiet, but he’d fallen still, a strange look on his face. Steve swallowed hard.

“You know I love you,” he said. “Cracks and all. But I don’t think you’re as cracked as you think. You get hit again and again and you keep getting up. And in the last years - I don’t think you even know how much you’ve grown. How _far_ you’ve come. How far...we’ve come.” He summoned a smile, though it felt weak and shaky. “Honestly - I’m proud of you. Sometimes I worry you’re so afraid of backsliding that you never stop and look at what you’ve accomplished. What you’ve built.”

Loki set down the vase. “We,” he said, after a moment. “We’ve built.” He paused, expression flickering. “Steve…Amora. She wounded you.” Steve opened his mouth, but Loki cut it off. “Do not think I haven’t noticed. I only...have not known what to offer. All I have known is to - try to keep from being a burden on you. Which was...clearly not successful.”

Steve huffed a weak laugh. “I can’t really criticize. I guess I’ve been doing the same thing.”

Loki looked uncertain. “Would you like to...speak of it?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

Loki inhaled slowly and let it out. “Did she...force you, make you…”

Steve jerked. “Oh - oh, god, no.” He felt suddenly a little sick, and wondered how long Loki had been wondering. Thought of the way Amora had touched his face and couldn’t help but imagine-

He slammed the door on those thoughts. “No,” he said again. “She just…” _Made me want her. And even that...I was a tool to her. Nothing other than a way to reach you._ “No,” he said again.

Loki slumped with naked relief. “I didn’t want to ask,” he murmured. “But she...people are like playthings, to her.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s not that,” he said, before he could stop himself, and closed his mouth quickly, wincing, but Loki was looking at him expectantly. “It just...wasn’t me. Not like when Wanda did...what she did, stirring up nightmares. She made me someone else, and I didn’t care about anything but her, couldn’t _think_ about anything but her or do anything that she didn’t want-” Steve cut off, swallowing convulsively.

“I talked to Clint, some,” he added. Loki flinched slightly.

“Did it help?” He said after a moment.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He rubbed his eyes. “She’s dead. Wanda killed her, I know that, but it’s just…”

“Hard to forget,” Loki said quietly. “I know. I am sorry that you do too, now.”

“It’ll get better,” Steve said, though as soon as he voiced it it sounded weak. “We’ll...lean on each other. Like partners are supposed to do.”

Loki’s lips twitched. “That sounds altogether too reasonable.”

“Thank Sam,” Steve said. “He pointed out that there’s no rule that says only one person gets to suffer at a time. Unfortunately.” He reached out to take Loki’s hand and squeeze it. Loki extended his free hand to touch Steve’s cheek.

“You are beautiful too,” he said. “You with your seams of gold.” Steve blinked, and Loki smiled a little sadly. “You think I don’t see?”

Steve glanced away. “I’m okay. Really.”

“Liar.” Loki didn’t sound upset, exactly, just tired. Steve winced anyway.

“I _am,_ ” he insisted. “It’s just…” He bit his lip. “It scared me. I guess. How easily…someone could turn me like that. Make me someone else. I know before, when Wanda…she got in my head, too. But…”

“It is different,” Loki said. “From being…used. Your will stolen away.”

“It didn’t feel unwilling,” he said in a small voice. “It felt like…I wanted to.”

Loki looked unhappy. “You did not,” he said. “Whatever it felt like – what she tried to make you is not who you are. Far from it.”

Steve shifted and sighed heavily. “I know.”

Loki leaned forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “I know you are not invincible, much as you try to be. You’ve lost so much. Fought so hard. Not just here, with Amora - for much of your life. But you always stand up again. Unbowed.”

“ _My head is bloody, but unbowed,_ ” Steve murmured. Loki glanced at him, a question on his face, and Steve shook his head. “A poem. Remind me to show you the whole thing. I think you might like it.”

“I like the line,” Loki said. “It seems...apropos.”

“I guess it does.” Steve drew Loki close and kissed him. Loki’s hand slid down from his face and curled into his shirt.

They’d been through this before. There might be worse to come.

But maybe there was something to be said for standing, even if it was standing still.

Bloody, but unbowed.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, yeah, another time when I probably should've/could've folded this into the longer fic, but I wanted it to be its own thing. It feels better that way, for some reason. I knew I wanted to write a fic about some of the recovery from the (multiple!) traumas of the last fic (thanks Amora!), so here is...well, a start. There's of course a lot more work that needs doing. 
> 
> Many thanks to my tireless [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) for all her hard work. There is a possibility that there will be one more fic before the Ragnarok fic (whatever it ends up looking like, though it'll definitely mean the Long Awaited Return of Thor) happens, but there is also a possibility that will...not happen. Who knows!! The world is full of surprises. 
> 
> If anyone is curious, the kintsugi bowl looks like [this.](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/42/3f/de/423fdefdff7a597104180f091ec92edf--kintsugi-chawan.jpg)


End file.
